Until We Meet Again
by Dreams on Wings
Summary: "What if...?" What if the adventure had truly ended after the original 8 Chosen Children returned to the Real World? What if the adventures that transpired thereafter never happened? What if, by the time of the epilogue, the portal between the Real World and the Digital World was still closed?


**Until We Meet Again…**

A/N: Hello everyone! Once again, I profusely apologize for such a long absence. Life is getting the better of me, and I just can't find enough time or energy to properly work on my various projects on here (namely because I'm working on another project called a bachelor's degree). I know I have two stories still incomplete as of 10/30/13. One of them I am hoping to finish by the end of the calendar year. The other... well, it's on hold indefinitely :/ Also, I keep talking about a big project that I have been working on for a very long time... IT IS STILL IN THE WORKS AND WILL BE PUBLISHED ON HERE SOMETIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE! For those of you who are able to stick around, please keep an eye out for my future stories (via following/subscription/whatever you'd like to call it). Honestly, with everything going on in my life right now, I find my creativity is being suppressed for more left-brained activity. Thusly, whenever I do get a spurt of inspiration, I ride all the way until I can't keep my eyes open any longer. Which is why I decided to write and publish this story...

I have read various sources on the Internet stating that the epilogue of "Digimon Adventure 02" was always intended to be the epilogue of "Digimon Adventure" (minus the obvious details, such as the 02 team). For example, the original eight Chosen Children's professions were already planned, Sorato was planned (with much protest from an avid Taiora fan), and the final scene was always to be shown X-number of years into the future, with Takeru revealing himself as the narrator all along. With this knowledge, my creative engine started running again (after so many months of stagnancy), and I was compelled to write this story. As a first for me, this is thus far the only story or chapter I have written in one sitting. This is my vision of how that epilogue might have played out had 02 never been made and the writers' original idea had proceeded as planned.

* * *

**4 Aug 1999_**

_The voices of the children were beginning to fade, just as the sight of the flying vehicle continued melting into the bright, warm sunshine. The seven other partner Digimon had finally caught up with Palmon, who was still shouting her apologies, her goodbyes, and her promises to never forget her dearest friend. They, too, were shouting at the top of their lungs, desperately giving the last of themselves – their very best words, their final hopes and dreams for their respective Chosen Child – before it really was too late. Never stop smiling. I promise not to cry anymore as long as you don't. Life's too short, so live it. Sorry, so sorry. Say hi to your parents for me. I love you. No words, just take care. I'll never forget you, ever._

_Finally, just before their voices gave out, the trolley zoomed high into the sky and, in a flash of glorious light, disappeared into the last fraction of the eclipse's shadow. And that was it. The adventure was over. Their time together was spent. The eight Digimon stood on the edge of the lake with their arms frozen above their heads and tears and smiles on their faces. The Chosen Children – no, their friends – were home, safe and sound. Only the memories of them and the good they had done for the Digital World remained._

_They would never be forgotten…_

* * *

**1 Aug 2028 _**

Takaishi Takeru sighed as he dropped his hands to his sides and leaned back into his chair. Before closing his strained eyes, he glanced over at the red numbers projected on the wall to his right. 5:54 am. He still had a couple hours to get a quick catnap. Willing himself to stand, the blonde man shakily pushed off the wheeled office chair and groggily made his way down the hallway to the bedroom.

_Twenty-nine years have passed since our adventures in the Digital World – twenty-nine years to the day – and a lot has happened since then. I followed in my parents footsteps and went into media, specifically journalism. I work for the local newspaper and have even had several articles published in Tokyo Times!_

He stumbled across the linoleum floor and reached out for the first thing his hand found in the early morning darkness. Whatever it was stopped his fall. The thirty-seven-year-old paused for a minute to catch his breath and his balance. He internally scolded himself for waiting so long to finish that manuscript. Swearing for the hundredth time to not push the next deadline, his free hand began feeling the wall for a light switch. It bumped into something, but it wasn't the switch. As his tired blue eyes adjusted to the lighting (or the lack thereof), he realized he was staring at the family portraits hanging in their hallway. Specifically, the one he had found was of him, his wife, and their eleven-year-old son. He was the spitting image of his father, but with his mother's knack for mischief.

His eyes then drifted to the portrait to the left, this one containing four smiling individuals.

_My brother, Yamato, spent his teenage years with his band, the Teenage Wolves, before retiring to study science and engineering – of all things – in college. If all goes according to plan, he's going to be going on his very first space mission in February!_

His gaze fell on the woman leaning on his brother's left arm, smiling happily.

_He and Sora just celebrated their tenth anniversary this year. She took over her mother's ikebana school after college, before taking on a new venture in fashion design. Her goal is to meld traditional styles with modern values, and she's become quite famous for her refreshing kimono designs._

Takeru couldn't help but grin at his niece and nephew kneeling in front of their parents. How old were they now? Seven and four?

Somewhat more awake from reminiscing, he turned to the opposite wall, where the smaller frames hung, all with different smiling, happy faces. Five faces in particular caught his eye, faces that had also matured over the years but still were recognizable from their childhood days. Takeru couldn't help but beam at his friends as he recalled how far they all had come.

_Taichi spent time as team captain of Japan's soccer team and brought the FIFA World Cup home in 2010. He's now their head coach and frequently shows up on TV for interviews. He's earned the nickname "The Leader" because he's a great coach and because he's known for handling problems within the team and with other teams very diplomatically. He was also Yamato's best man at his and Sora's wedding._

_Hikari thankfully got healthier as she got older, and we've remained close throughout the years. No longer plagued by sickness or darkness, she realized her dream of becoming a Kindergarten teacher. She teaches at Odaiba Elementary School and has actually had a lot of our kids in her class._

_Mimi moved to New York with her family not long after we returned from the Digital World. Nevertheless, she still made frequent trips here and stayed in touch so she wouldn't be left out of the fun. On one of her trips, someone – it may have been Taichi or Jou – made a comment about her cooking, at which point she swore she would become the best chef in the world. So-and-so years later, she has her own cooking show and is one of the pillars of the Food Network in America._

_Speaking of Jou, he did end up going into medicine, but on his own terms and not because of his father's wishes. Not only that, he is now the most prominent _pediatrician_ in Tokyo. We were all surprised, but it turns out he has a lot of patience for the kids, and his patients and their families love him. Sometimes I wonder if that has anything to do with Gomamon…_

_Koushiro went into computer science and research – to no one's surprise. He's been making great advances in technology and the way we understand computers since high school. On the side, he teaches classes at Tokyo University. I heard he's in the running for becoming the head of the computer science department after the current head retires. He has published so many articles, journals, and books, and he never seems to stop churning out experiments and findings. I do have a suspicion about that…_

Takeru reached into his pocket and curled his fingers around the device within. A lot of things had changed, some drastically, but others had not. His Digivice was still the same as it was the day he had received it, and it was still the same as it was the day they had returned from the Digital World once and for all. It had remained blank, silent, for nearly thirty years now.

_Koushiro has been desperately trying to find a way back to the Digital World. We all have. Ever since our trolley landed in Tokyo Bay, we haven't stopped looking for a way back to our Digimon, our friends. Even though time has synchronized between our worlds, that still means it's been nearly thirty years since we left – since the Digimon saw us disappear from their world, as if we had never existed. But we had existed in their world, and they had been here, to ours, too. Evidence of our visits may have been wiped clean, but our memories of each other remain as alive as they were in our childhood days._

_Admittedly, details have begun to fade over the years. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I've been having trouble picturing Patamon's face lately. We all swore we would never forget each other – and frankly, I don't think it's ever possible to forget a summer like that – but how long can memories last? The human mind is frail, fragile, and sometimes plays tricks on us. How did PicoDevimon turn us against each other in the first place? What transpired that night we were separated on File Island? Is it even possible that a singing monkey almost killed us in cold blood? I remember, yes, but things as incredulous as those memories… Well, when it comes down to it, none of it really makes sense._

_As we grew into teenagers and then adults, we were taught to think a certain way, that this was the only way to live happily and get through each day, no matter how easy or tough it would be. There was no room for strange dreams or adventures in far-off lands or befriending imaginary creatures. There was only here, only now, and just this reality. If you couldn't prove it existed, then it never happened._

Removing the Digivice from his pocket, Takeru brought it within eyesight, the small square screen reflecting the first rays of sunlight streaking into the apartment.

_But it _did_ happen, and Patamon _was_ real. Patamon… really did die… protecting me…_

The memory of losing his partner Digimon stung his heart, and the grown man struggled to hold back a tear. No, no matter what society had dictated and told them, he could prove that the Digital World was just as real as the Real World. He would prove it. He _had_ proven it. At least, he would, later today.

_My memories are alive and well. Patamon and the other Digimon live on in my heart. No one else can see it, only me. That's why… That's why I decided to write down our stories – while I still remember the details – so everyone can read and know that what happened in the summer of 1999 was not a freak accident or one of those unsolved mysteries. It's completed now. I'm going to submit the manuscript today, exactly twenty-nine years later, and once it's published, everyone will know the truth._

He closed his eyes, and in spite of his seriousness, he couldn't help but chuckle at his thoughts.

_My editor's understanding, though, is that this is a work of fiction. That was the only way I could get a contract with the publisher._

Trekking the remaining steps to his bedroom, he slowly opened the door, careful not to wake his wife. The futility of his efforts had haunted him since before he even started this project. There was always the possibility of rejection, a negative reaction. He wouldn't consider himself famous, but there was no doubt he was a celebrated journalist nowadays. This manuscript could mar his career and turn it around for the worst. It was why he waited until he was nearly thirty to seriously consider pursuing this endeavor, and afterwards, there were even more challenges that continued to set back his dream.

The weary man of thirty-seven years set the Digivice gently on the nightstand and quickly but quietly changed into more appropriate sleeping clothes. The despair hung over him like a bad stench, and he was tired. It was always worse when he was sleep deprived.

"_Takeru, you have the Crest of Hope…"_

The familiar voice echoed from long ago, reminding him of his bright, optimistic, and cheerful childhood, and then, Takeru really couldn't help but smile and chuckle. That's right, he was the Chosen Child of Hope. It was as if the sun suddenly rose in his heart, and he knew instantly how and why he came this far. Hope was on their side.

_Even if the world doesn't immediately accept my manuscript, the truth will be in the open, and someday, somehow, they will know and understand. That is my honest, sincerest hope for this book._

He sat down on his side of the bed and began settling in under the covers. The beautiful woman beside him stirred slightly in her slumber.

_Nearly thirty years later, we still haven't found our way back to the Digimon and the Digital World. However, none of us have forgotten what transpired that fateful summer and how it changed us, and none of us will ever forget our adventures and the friends we made and shared those adventures with. That's a promise, now and forever. Who knows? The day we meet again may come very soon. Until then, we just have to keep hoping and remembering, never forgetting, never giving up hope…_

Deprived for the past three days, the hopeful writer swiftly fell into a deep slumber alongside his wife. Already, the city was alive outside their windows, and they would have to be ready to meet whatever challenges faced them. Soon, she would be rising to greet the day, awakening their son across the hallway to get him ready for another day of school. Soon, her alarm clock would sound off, and she would get up quickly while her husband would bury himself beneath his pillows, begging the night for more rest before his big meeting. Soon, another day would dawn, another chance for another adventure.

At once, a tender beeping interrupted the peace. It repeated itself over and over, seemingly wanting to make up for an almost thirty-year silence, and from Takeru's nightstand, his Digivice – awakening from its long slumber, just as its owner was settling into one – began to glow a familiar yellow light. Unbeknownst to him, seven other identical devices were simultaneously coming to life, heralding a new adventure and revealing the way back to their friends – just as they had on August 1, all those years ago.


End file.
